


medicine

by daringyounggrayson



Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [11]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Batman Bingo, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Ficlet, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Sick Dick Grayson, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26553841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daringyounggrayson/pseuds/daringyounggrayson
Summary: “We have to get out of here,” Dick says, trying and failing to sit up. “Before, before they get back.”“Dick, listen to me. You’re sick,” Bruce says, running a hand through Dick’s hair. “You’re in an isolation unit at the Watchtower’s medical bay.”Dick shakes his head. That can’t be right. “They’re trying to, to poison me.”
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833130
Comments: 6
Kudos: 198





	medicine

**Author's Note:**

> anon said: For your bingo thing, could you do the isolation square for Dick with Bruce or any of his brothers getting him out and supplying him with needed physical affection?

Dick doesn’t know how long he’s been here, just that _here_ is a terrible place. He thinks whoever captured him must be poisoning him, that’s the only thing that would explain why he feels so sick, why he’s too tired to so much as lift his arm. 

He’s lying on his side, breathing heavily and staring at the IV bag that must be holding this poison. Dick is positive that if he can just get the line out, he’ll be okay. He’ll gain enough strength back to escape, and then he can get home and forget this ever happened.

He has this vague memory, though he still isn’t sure if it was real or imagined. But in this memory/dream, he managed to pull the IV out. Before he could get out of the bed and escape, though, one of those people, decked out in gloves and a mask, had rushed in. They forced Dick back down and sedated him. When he woke up, the IV was back in and his hands were tied to the bed.

He’s not wearing the restraints now, and he’s not completely sure that he ever was. But he feels worse than he did a few days ago, so he’s theorizing that his captors have upped the poison, and in their confidence, removed the restraints. The confidence isn’t unfounded; Dick feels too sick to move.

The swish of a door has Dick’s eyes drifting away from the IV bag. The masked person is back with a new bag of poison, and Dick watches wordlessly as it’s attached, taking the place of the now empty bag. 

“How are you feeling this afternoon?” the masked person asks as they scribble something down in a file.

“Let me go,” Dick demands, voice weak and throat scratchy. He breaks into a coughing fit, and Dick wonders if the mask over his face is feeding him poison too. 

“You know I can’t do that; you’re still too sick,” the masked person explains, a hint of sadness in their voice. 

Dick just frowns at them; they’re not making any sense. 

“Are you in any pain?” the masked person asks.

Dick ignores them and goes back to staring at the IV bag. He’s shivering, now, he realizes. He can’t get it to stop, but he decides he doesn’t care.

The door swishes and he’s alone again. He should stay awake, try to move his arm, but he can’t. He closes his eyes and lets himself fall asleep.

oOo

It’s not the sound of the door that wakes him up but a hand squeezing his own. His eyes fly open at the contact and he tries to retract his hand. 

“Dick, hush, calm down. You’re alright.”

Dick freezes and looks at the person, the man in front of him. He’s wearing the same outfit as the masked people, but it’s definitely him, it’s definitely Bruce. He must have snuck in. “Bruce?”

“Right here, chum,” Bruce tells him.

Dick squeezes his hand tightly, all too eager to latch onto the closest thing he’s had to physical affection, to comfort, in days, maybe weeks. Hell, he could have been here for months and not been the wiser. 

“We have to get out of here,” Dick says, trying and failing to sit up. “Before, before they get back.”

“Dick, listen to me. You’re sick,” Bruce says, running a hand through Dick’s hair. “You’re in an isolation unit at the Watchtower’s medical bay.”

Dick shakes his head. That can’t be right. “They’re trying to, to poison me.”

“You’re feverish, it’s making you confused. The IV bags are filled with medicine, that’s all,” Bruce promises. “It’s going to make you feel better. Trust me; I won’t let them hurt you.” 

“But . . .”

Bruce squeezes his hand again and Dick looks into his eyes, trying to figure out what the truth is.

“I don’t feel good,” he whispers, offering the only truth he knows.

“I know, sweetheart,” Bruce says. He leans forward to press a kiss against Dick’s forehead through the mask. “We’re fixing it, I promise.”

Dick nods, wanting to believe that’s the truth, that these people aren’t holding him as a prisoner and trying to kill him. But no matter how hard he tries, it isn’t until the fever breaks a week later that he finally understands that Bruce had been telling the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Comment and kudos are always appreciated <3
> 
> [tumblr](https://daringyounggrayson.tumblr.com/)


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